


Sweet On My Lips

by stillmumu



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, Lesbian AU, Meet-Cute, Romantic Fluff, Season 12 (RuPaul's Drag Race), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Useless Lesbians, crygi, dragrace, just some soft cute shit for y'all hehe, rpdr, soft crygi, teeny mention of the other three queens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:02:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25374340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillmumu/pseuds/stillmumu
Summary: Gigi's a barista and Crystal stumbles into her cafe. Softness ensues.
Relationships: Gigi Goode/Crystal Methyd
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Sweet On My Lips

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! I usually write poetry, so this is quite a change. Hope you enjoy :)

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when Crystal Methyd stumbles into the cafe with a bookbag under her arm. She needs a sugar high. Immediately. She wanted to go to a Starbucks, but a few wrong turns on the way back from the new tattoo studio she was an apprentice at, and she was suddenly twenty minutes away from the nearest one. She ended up having to settle for a local cafe to satisfy her sweet tooth. _How is that even possible? Starbucks is supposed to have a store on every street. That’s, like, the law._

Add that to the fact that LA summers felt like Satan himself was preemptively boiling everybody alive to lessen his workload once they made it down to hell, and you got one _very_ pissed off Crystal.

“Hi! Can I get, uh, a-” Crystal starts, approaching the counter. She squints at the menu, trying to decide from the creative names which drink has the most cream and sugar. Her mouth tastes filmy and gross, not at all helping her concentrate on scanning the drink names.

Tiramisu mocha? White chocolate raspberry frappe? _Maybe the frappes are sweeter, given that they’re usually topped with whip cream and all._ She traps her bottom lip between her teeth, thinking. _It’s too hot out to order a hot chocolate._ Maybe she could ask to get it iced, though? _Is that a thing?_ She honestly should have just walked the twenty minutes to Starbucks; at least she knows for sure that they’re okay with modifications.

She realizes she’s been quiet for a few seconds too long when the barista speaks.

“Take your time! There’s not much business this time of day anyways.”

“Thanks,” Crystal drags her gaze away from the menu and up to glance at said barista. Her breath catches as soon as she does. The first thing she notices is curly red hair, pulled into a shiny ponytail. It looks soft, and she wants to touch it. 

Crystal’s pretty sure this barista is the first redhead she’s met (apart from that one time she decided to dye her hair red in eighth grade, of course, but she doubts that counts.)

She’d only done it to piss off her English teacher after he’d gone on a rant and said that unnatural hair colors were an abomination of god or whatever. It didn’t come out to be a pretty shade like this girl’s. More… Clifford the big red dog. But ultimately, three months of picking out clothes to match her hair and drenching her damaged split ends in coconut oil were worth it, if only to see Mr. Rhodes splutter every time she came into his classroom. 

A thump from the cafe dishwasher brings her back to the moment, and she startles slightly.

“D’you want some help choosing?” The barista asks helpfully.

She doesn’t trust herself to speak without stammering out something embarrassing, so Crystal just nods instead.

“Okay!” The redhead smiles.

Her nose scrunches as she does so, and Crystal notices the coral-coloured blush placed there for the first time. It gives the girl a sunburnt look. It’s cute. She’s cute. 

“I love guessing people’s coffee orders. It’s like, coffee shop tarot reading or whatever,” The girl says.

“Aren’t tarot readings for the future though?” Crystal gets out, finding her voice again. Her eyes drop to the barista’s nametag- _Gigi_. It’s nice to put a name to the pretty face. “So this would be more like a BuzzFeed personality quiz or something.”

“Whatever, I don’t know.” Gigi waves the question away, shrugging. Her smile is warm, and it makes Crystal feel kind of melty inside. “You’re probably right.”

“Do you do it often?” Crystal ventures.

Gigi gets a bit flustered, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. Crystal wishes she could be the one playing with Gigi’s hair. _Is that creepy? Definitely creepy._

Gigi considers how to word her answer. _Okay, definitely don’t tell her you analyze everyone that comes in here like some sort of serial killer._

“Mostly just in my head? It keeps me entertained.” _Or do. Great._

“Cool! Do you want me to answer questions or something? I can do that.” Crystal offers.

“No, that’s cheating. Just, like, stand there for a sec, yeah?” 

Crystal obeys, feeling a bit silly. Gigi narrows her eyes, studying her. “You’re wearing bright colors and mixing prints… that tells me you’re fun and like, a child at heart and stuff.” _And you’re really pretty,_ Gigi wants to add. _Really, really pretty, because nobody else I’ve ever met could get away with mixing prints._

“Uh, thanks, I think!” Crystal shuffles a bit. She hopes that being “a child at heart” a good thing in Gigi’s book. She wants Gigi to like her. The realization almost makes her snort in irony. _Of course. I’m head over heels for a pretty girl I just met five minutes ago who’s probably not even gay. How very cliche lesbian of me._

Crystal makes a mental note to never, ever tell her group chat about this. (Meaning, the group chat is the first place she’ll go to talk about this after she leaves in around five minutes.) Jaida will probably never let her live it down. On the bright side, it would probably give her a break from constantly having to relive the Mailbox Incident of Summer 2017. She nearly shudders just thinking about it.

“Oh! And cute earrings! Where’d you get those?” Gigi asked, bringing Crystal out of her thoughts.

“Thank you, I made them!” Crystal says, and only allows herself to grin like an idiot for five seconds.

“No way, that’s incredible,” Gigi marvels. “Do you sell them or anything?”

“Yeah, mostly just to friends. Once a month I go to an art fair and that’s when I sell the most stuff.” Crystal says. She hesitates for a moment, before throwing in a, “but then again, lesbians will buy anything you stick a needle on and call them earrings, so.”

“That’s cool,” Gigi says. “And amen to that. I just bought a pair of bottle cap earrings? I have no idea when I’m ever going to wear them.”

“Thanks! And those sound cute, I bet you’d look pretty in them.” Crystal feels like a broken record at this point, just repeating the same few phrases. The praise has her feeling a bit shy, and she can’t help but get a little self-conscious. She fiddles with the hem of her denim jacket to keep herself busy.

Gigi doesn’t seem to notice, still very much focused on analyzing her appearance. “Freckles, cute! Are they natural?”

“Oh, uh, yeah!” Crystal brings a hand up to tap her nose. “I used to hate them.”

“What, no, they’re adorable! I’ve always wanted them. I would like, dot them on with mascara in third grade.”

Crystal giggles. “That’s so cute.”

She flounders for a second, trying to come up with something to say as Gigi goes back to staring at her. “Uh, I like your hair! I dyed my hair red in eighth grade, but it didn’t look natural or anything.”

“Aw, thank you. Yeah, red hair is really hard to get right apparently.” Gigi nibbles on her bottom lip, thinking. “Okay, I think I’ve got it!”

“What’s the verdict?” Crystal asks excitedly, all previous discomfort forgotten.

The redhead pauses, steepling her hands and drumming her fingertips together in an impression of one of those old-timey detectives. She lets the silence sit for a few seconds to build anticipation, though this time it’s decidedly less awkward, both girls having warmed up to each other. 

There’s a pause before she announces her decision. “I think… you seem like a diabetes in a cup kinda girl.”

Wow. Okay, how the hell did Gigi do that? Is Crystal that easy to read or something?

_Actually, yeah, it makes sense that she’d get it right._ She thinks, answering her own question. _I dress like something out of a five-year-old’s wildest dreams._ Still, pretty impressive. An indignant part of her wants to insist that she can handle bitterness, thank you so much, but Crystal’s never been a great liar, and something tells her this girl wouldn’t buy it either.

“Is that… a good thing?” Crystal says, a dumb grin spreading on her face for the third time in this short conversation. _Get it together, Crystal._

“What? Girl, in what world is diabetes a _good_ thing?” Gigi cackles. “It’s horrible. I get an iced black coffee, for reference.”

“Ew,” Crystal blurts without thinking. _Shit, I said that out loud._ She immediately flushes and tries to take it back. “Or, no, I mean, not ew, but-”

“No no, it’s okay! I know some people just aren’t mature enough for Big Girl coffee,” Gigi mocks. Crystal would usually be offended, but judging from the way Gigi’s blue eyes are sparkling with mirth, she knows the girl’s just joking.

She still makes a sort of offended squeak, pouting. “I just like the way sweet stuff tastes!”

“Okay, okay!” Gigi holds her hands up in surrender, barely concealing a grin. “Don’t pout, you’re too cute to pout.”

The squeak that escapes Crystal is real this time. Gigi called her cute? _Is she flirting or just being nice? I’m probably delusional. Right?_

There’s a moment where neither girl speaks. It hangs in the air with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon, mixing until Crystal’s half sure the entire cafe’s suddenly been turned into some sort of fairy-tale confection. She’s afraid to move, like the space around her will crack and shatter if she does. It’s quiet, safe for the background of the coffee grinder going steadily and some gentle R&B flowing out of the sound system. 

It’s a comfortable sort of silence. Crystal likes it, feels safe in the cocoon-like ambience. She wonders why she’s never come to this cafe before. Maybe it’s time to break her Starbucks addiction, explore a bit more.

Gigi clears her throat.

“So, how does a double chocolate cookie dough frappe with Nutella drizzle sound?” Gigi asks, finger already poised above the cash register screen.

_Perfect_. 

Okay no, she can’t say that. Crystal clears her throat, trying to come up with a response that’s not as corny. She eyes the wall opposite the counter, where the menu is, then Gigi, confused.

“Wait, that’s not on the menu, though?” She scans the menu again, trying to find Gigi’s recommendation. Did she miss it? Her coffee budget is $3, what with rent due at the end of this week. Hopefully, Gigi’s recommendation isn’t over that limit.

“Oh! Yeah, um, I kinda just made it up right now.” Gigi flushes, sounding a bit flustered. She rushes to explain. “My boss is, like, super cool though! She lets me experiment and stuff. And I can just ring you up for a hot chocolate and it’ll be our little secret.”

In truth, this is Gigi’s first time making anything off-menu, so she isn’t sure what her boss Widow’s policy on the practice is. But she has this inexplicable urge to want to impress this girl. Gigi wants her to love the drink she orders. _I mean, it can’t go that bad, right?_ She reasons. _Worst case scenario Widow takes it out of my tips or something. But Widow’s nice. She probably won’t do that._

“Well, in that case,” Crystal starts, and then changes her mind. “Actually, what did you say you usually ordered? Black coffee? I’ll take that.” 

A shocked noise escapes Gigi. “I get an iced black coffee. You sure you want that?

“Yeah yeah yeah! I can handle it, you’ll see,” Crystal hears herself say. This is an astronomically bad idea, she knows, but then again, she’s never been one to turn down a challenge. She wants to impress Gigi, and what with her teasing earlier, she honestly feels like she has something to prove.

“Okay, your funeral,” Gigi relents, raising an eyebrow. “That’ll be $2.49, then.”

Crystal hands her card over, watching Gigi go through the motions of scanning it, handing it back to her, and tearing off the receipt.

“You want the receipt?” Gigi asks.

“Nah, I trust you,” Crystal winks at the other girl, surprising even herself with her boldness.

Crystal thinks she sees Gigi redden, though that could just be a combination of her makeup and a trick of the light. Something tells her that the redhead is fond of blush, what with the way the coral powder has been taken across the bridge of Gigi’s nose and on her cheekbones.

“Okay!” Gigi flashes her a smile and grabs a cup and sharpie. _Two can play this game_. “Can I get a name for the order, babes?”

“Um, it’s- it’s Crystal.” Crystal blinks, trying to figure out whether she heard that right. Whatever boldness possessed her to wink at the pretty girl in front of her fled the moment that pet name passed Gigi’s lips. 

“Well, nice to meet you then, It’s It’s Crystal,” Gigi says with a smirk. “One iced black coffee coming right up! Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll bring it to you when it’s done.”

Crystal plops down at the nearest table, watching Gigi work. Now that she has an excuse to just quietly observe, Crystal takes in Gigi’s full appearance. Her red hair is glossy and shiny under the sunlight that streams through the cafe’s windows, and she moves with expert ease through the space behind the counter. Her apron is checkered red and white. It’s tied in a bow at the back—a bow that’s lopsided, sagging slightly to the left, Crystal notes with a smile. The girl is gorgeous, there’s no doubt about it. If Crystal met her on the street she definitely would have mistaken her for a model. And she was nice, too. 

Nobody ever noticed her freckles or complimented her on her earrings the first time they met her. Most people thought her style of dress was weird, and Crystal figures that’s fair enough. Just the other day she wore a magenta jumpsuit with matching bunny ears. Anyone in their right mind would be a little taken aback at her fashion (as Jaida put it, her aesthetic is best described as “thrift store on acid.” Not exactly everyone’s cup of tea.) But Gigi got her right away, and a little part of Crystal wants to take that as a sign. Okay, maybe a large part.

Just as Crystal’s about to get lost in her daydreams again, Gigi bustles over with two cups, one in each hand.

“I made you a cookie dough frappe just in case,” She says, setting both cups on the table. “It’s on the house.”

Crystal exhales a light laugh. “You didn’t have to.”

“Oh,” Gigi says _._ She shifts her weight onto the other foot, suddenly shy, and gestures lamely towards the two drinks. “I wanted to. Just in case, like, the black coffee was too bitter. Sorry. You don’t have to drink it, uh, if you don’t want to.”

She offers an awkward smile. “I won’t force you.”

“Oh! Uh, no!” Crystal says, a little louder than necessary in her haste to reassure the other girl. Gigi jumps, and Crystal grabs her hand out of impulse. The movement jerks Gigi closer to her. “I mean, thanks. You don’t have to apologize. It’s really sweet of you to think of that.”

Gigi blushes, and Crystal’s suddenly acutely aware of the fact that she’s holding the girl’s hand. And the fact that they’re the only people in this cafe. And the fact that when Crystal grabbed Gigi’s hand, it sent her stumbling a step closer, so now she’s pressed right against Crystal’s leg. Gigi is very, very close to her all of a sudden, and her hair is really pretty, especially with the sunlight backlighting the frizz into a golden halo. She looks like an angel, and her eyes are hypnotizing. 

Crystal wants to kiss her.

“Okay,” Gigi whispers, and licks her lips, and Crystal realises that she said that last part out loud. _Fuck._

But Crystal can’t think, can’t panic, because Gigi’s so close and she smells like chocolate cake when it’s freshly out of the oven and still gooey in the center, just the way her abuelita makes it, and she’s warm and everything Crystal has ever imagined or wanted. Everything molecule in Crystal is telling her to crash into Gigi, and she goes along with her instincts because when a pretty girl is that close to her there’s no way Crystal can think logically.

“O-kay,” Crystal whispers back, stretching out the word, and then Gigi’s lips are on hers and they’re soft. 

God, they’re soft. _Gotta ask for her lip balm brand_ , Crystal thinks, because that’s a perfectly normal thing to ask someone you’re kissing, and then Gigi’s shifting positions and sliding into her lap to kiss her more comfortably and she’s lost the ability to think again. All she can do is feel, feel the way Gigi’s hand snakes around her waist, the way Gigi’s eyelashes are fluttering against her nose bridge, the way Gigi’s hair is smooth as she tangles a hand in it, the way her heart feels like it’s soaring and exploding all at once and all of her veins seems to be pumped full of fizzy champagne all of a sudden. All she can feel is Gigi, and she thinks she likes that. 

As they part, Crystal accidentally bumps her nose against Gigi’s. She pulls away, wincing, and meets Gigi’s eyes for one very still moment. They peer at each other in wonder, as if discovering each other for the first time, and then Gigi’s lips quirk and she’s giggling. Before long, Crystal’s joining in too, and both lose it, still riding high off the adrenaline of the kiss.

After they’ve both calmed down, Crystal motions to the drinks on the table. “Wanna share?”

Gigi smiles softly at her. “Yeah, sure.”

Crystal grabs the black coffee and takes a small, tentative sip. She immediately chokes, breaking into a coughing fit. Gigi pounds her back, hard, then races behind the counter and pours her a small cup of water. After Crystal’s done hacking her guts out, she accepts it gratefully, trying to catch her breath.

“That,” She pants, “Is fucking _disgusting_.”

Gigi lets out a full-bellied laugh. It’s the prettiest thing Crystal’s ever heard, she thinks, which is saying a lot because she’s been to at least one show for all four of the One Direction tours. ‘“What a feeling” harmonies can’t even come close to the magic of Gigi’s laugh. Crystal wants to hear it over and over.

“I tried to warn you,” Gigi says with a snort, then covers her mouth, eyes wide and mortified, clearly shocked at the sound she produced. The comical expression sends Crystal straight into another bout of laughter, and before long they’re both losing it again.

Sometime later in the afternoon, somehow, Gigi ends up in Crystal’s lap again. Crystal’s lost track of time, but she doesn’t mind. She wants to kiss Gigi again, and again, and again. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of looking at her, kissing the sweet almond balm off her lips, and touching her. Crystal wants to be in her presence forever. Gigi’s tongue pokes out of the left side of her mouth as she gazes down at Crystal, lazily tracing the smattering of freckles across her nose, forehead, and cheekbones with her peach nails. 

“I wanna kiss every one of them,” Gigi whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then: “They’re cute.”

Crystal’s pretty sure if she wasn’t already giving heart eyes to Gigi, they are most certainly happening now. “You’re cute.”

“Can I? Kiss them.”

“There’s a lot of them,” Crystal says. It’s breathy, a challenge and a plea at the same time.

Gigi smiles, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind Crystal’s ear. “We have time.”

And they do, so Crystal lets Gigi kiss her until the drinks beside them are both completely melted and the whipped cream in Crystal’s has gone all weepy and deflated. Gigi insists on making her a new one, and on entering her number into Crystal’s phone before she leaves.

Crystal goes home and dreams of her.


End file.
